


The Perils of Mixing Work and Play

by ArethusaRay



Category: Primeval
Genre: Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 08:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArethusaRay/pseuds/ArethusaRay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor has feelings for Nick, and suspects Nick feels the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perils of Mixing Work and Play

“This is it, Connor. It’s now or never,” Connor says to his reflection in the bathroom mirror at the ARC. After the debacle with Caroline, he’s just frustrated enough to be reckless. He’d seen the way Cutter looked at him when he thought Connor was distracted. He’d seen the jealousy when he’d announced that he had a girlfriend. When that blew up in his face, he’d felt a moment with Cutter . . . or had he? He isn’t really completely sure, but he’s going to find out. 

He fixes his hair, steps out of the bathroom, and walks down the hall to Cutter’s office. As he reaches the door, it opens and Abby walks out, still talking. 

“I know, don’t worry. These tranquilizers will be more than sufficient for most creatures.”

She turns and almost runs into Connor. “Can you please remember to put the milk back in the fridge after you use it? I get so sick of cleaning up after you! Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just need to talk to Cutter.”

“Sure,” she pauses, noticing his expression, “Er, good luck?” She smiles and heads back to the lab, and Connor finds himself grateful that their friendship was finally starting to recover.

Connor walks into the office where Cutter is sitting in his desk chair with a length of pipe in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. He seems to be completely lost in whatever he’s doing.

Connor clears his throat. “Professor? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“What is it, Connor?” Cutter doesn’t even glance up from his paper.

“I think it was Col. Mustard in the kitchen with the pipe, sir.” Connor smirks. 

No response. Connor’s face falls.

“I’ve just been thinking about stuff and, well, I just thought- or was thinking- um, maybe you and I . . .”

Cutter grabs a pen from his desk and scribbles some figures onto the paper. Connor steps forward and snatches the paper from his hands.

“Nick, please just listen for a second! I need to tell you that I really like you and I think you like me, too!”

“Of course I like you Connor. Can I have that back, please?”

“No. I don’t mean ‘like’ as in ‘tolerate’ I mean ‘attracted to.’ I mean . . .” Without thinking Connor leans in and kisses Cutter. It’s quick and graceless, but so surprising that Cutter drops the pipe. 

Connor steps back and Cutter gapes, open-mouthed. He stares at Connor for a full minute before speaking.

“Connor, no. This can’t happen.”

“Why not? I see how you look at me, and I know you have feelings for me! If you’re going to give me some bullshit answer about an age difference, just don’t. How many people have seen what we’ve seen? Age doesn’t matter! And it’s not like you’re actually my professor anymore. Or if you’re going to give me some line about how we work together or bring up Claudia Brown, just, just don’t. She’s gone, Nick but I’m still here.”

He stops, close to tears. He’s never been this honest with anyone. He’s never cared this much about a response. But Cutter just sits there, looking down at his hands, for what feels like an eternity. 

“If you want me to leave, just tell me,” Connor whispers. 

Cutter rises slowly to his feet and looks Connor in the eye. He reaches up tentatively and brushes the younger man’s hair away from his face. He gently hooks his hand behind Connor’s neck and pulls him forward. Connor’s eyes widen as Nick kisses him, softly at first, then harder. Both men seem to release all of their pent up need at once and before either quite realizes it, they’re pressed firmly against each other, mouths locked.

Cutter abruptly pulls away and heaves an exasperated sigh. He turns, crosses to the door, closes it and locks it. He walks back toward Connor in a deliberate fashion. The look in his eye makes Connor take an involuntary step back and he bumps against the desk. Nick gives a smile and lifts Connor onto the desk. 

Papers scatter onto the floor, but Cutter pays no attention. He kisses Connor forcefully, running his tongue inside the man’s mouth. Connor returns the kiss just as aggressively, and begins unbuttoning Cutter’s shirt, needing to feel skin beneath his hands. 

Soon both men are pulling at each other’s clothing, ignoring the fact that they are still in the ARC. Cutter grunts and gives up trying to get through Connors many layers, and goes for the fastening on his jeans. Connor’s eyes open wide as Cutter’s hand slips past his zipper and gently strokes his length.

He gasps, “Oh Nick,” barely audible as Cutter’s grip tightens. Conner leans his head back and Cutter takes the opportunity to lick his neck, and then gently bite it. Connor leans in, submitting to the feel of lips and teeth, and he struggles to undo the button on Nick’s khakis. Nick breathes in sharply as Connor’s hand finds him, and they begin to stroke each other in unison. 

WAAA! WAAA! WAAA! The anomaly detector screams to life. The two instantly jump away from each other and take a couple steps toward the door, before pausing awkwardly, neither knowing what to do.

“I should really . . .” Connor half mumbles, motioning in the direction of the hub. He doesn’t want to leave, but it is his job to be at the computer when the detector goes off and any delay could mean the deaths of innocent people. 

Cutter nods, steps to him and kisses him on the forehead. “We’ll finish this later, shall we?” he asks with a warm smile. 

Connor nods, vigorously.

Both men scramble to right their clothing. Connor runs out the door, still re-wrapping his scarf around his neck, grateful that it will cover any fresh marks. He reaches the computer and immediately pulls up the information, still out of breath. Abby has beaten him here, and the others arrive as he sits down. Cutter follows a minute later, walking calmly as if nothing at all could be out of the ordinary. Connor pointedly does not look at him, knowing that to do so would only distract him.

“So, what have we got?” Cutter asks.

“Anomaly in London. Looks like it’s on Brodway. Possible creature incursion.”

“Okay, let’s head out. Abby, make sure you have those tranquilizers and bring some real guns just in case.”

Cutter heads toward the car park. Connor lets the others go ahead, and then starts to follow. Abby grabs his shoulder and whispers, “Do you want to tell him he’s got his shirt buttoned up all wrong or should I?”

Connor’s face splits into a huge, goofy grin.

. . .

The team returns to the ARC a bit beat up, but faring better than usual. 

“I told you these new tranquilizers were better. That achillobator never knew what hit him,” Abby says as they walk in.

“Well, they worked wonderfully, but next time let’s try not to fire them at teenagers, shall we?” Cutter responds.

“I didn’t mean to! It’s not my fault the mall was full of teenagers,” she grumbles.

“What is it with raptors and malls, anyway?” Connor chimes in.

Before anyone can reply, Lester appears at the top of the stairs and shouts, “Cutter, my office, now!”

The others duck their heads and begin to find things to do in hopes that Lester won’t single them out as well. Connor starts walking toward the detector, knowing that will keep him busy, but Cutter calls after him, “Connor, fancy having a drink with me this evening? Lester can’t scold me all night.”

Connor nods, a bit surprised. Cutter smiles and heads up the stairs to Lester’s office.

. . .

Cutter must’ve had a reasonable enough explanation for Lester, as he was out in less than twenty minutes looking far less frustrated than he usually did after a talking to. Before he can blink, Connor is in Nick’s car.

By the time they arrived at Cutter’s house, Connor’s mind is racing. He’d begun to question if the events of that morning had actually transpired or if he had imagined it all, but here he is walking into Cutter’s house and accepting the glass of whiskey being offered. He can’t seem to quite wrap his head around it all. Sensing this, Cutter asks if he’d like a tour. 

Connor nods. “Sure.”

As Cutter shows him around, Connor marvels at how similar his house looks to his office at the university. Clearly housekeeping is not a priority. 

“And our tour concludes here, in the bedroom,” Cutter says, setting his glass on the bookcase. Connor feels frozen in the doorway, not completely sure what is expected of him. Cutter steps forward, gently takes the glass from Connor’s hand and sets it on a disconcertingly tall stack of papers. “Now,” he says softly, “where were we?”

“Professor?” Connor asks, hoping it’s not completely obvious that he’s stalling. “What made you change your mind about me?

Cutter thinks for a moment and smiles.

“You said earlier that Claudia Brown is gone. You were right. The thing is, even when she was here, she wasn’t mine. We were friends and I had hoped for more, but then she disappeared. You have always been here and I don’t think I could get rid of you if I tried.”

He moves closer to Connor and kisses him while pulling off Connor’s scarf. Connor is so wrapped up in the feeling of Nick’s lips against his own and Nick’s tongue in his mouth that he hardly notices his vest becoming unbuttoned and slipping off. He is very aware that his arms are just hanging at his sides, but he is unsure what to do with them. Cutter pulls back and, keeping his eyes fixed on Connor’s, unbuttons his own shirt and slips it off, then pulls off his T-shirt and reaches for Connor’s right hand. He pulls off Connor’s glove and places Connor’s hand on his waist. He does the same with the left hand.

The sensation of his hands on Cutter’s bare skin momentarily floods Connor’s senses. He leans forward and kisses him, no longer concerned about his awkwardness. Cutter continues to undress him while Connor traces his hands under the waistband of Cutter’s trousers. Soon both men are in only their underwear. The sight of Nick in his boxers causes another bout of nerves in Connor. 

He mumbles, “Er, it’s been, well, I don’t do this much, uh . . .”

Cutter smiles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle . . . ish.” 

He pushes Connor onto the bed and tugs off his trunks, then slides off his own boxers. He moves on top of Connor, kissing him, and Connor gasps at the unfamiliar sensation as their cocks brush together. Cutter kisses his neck, down his collar bone, his chest, his stomach (which tickles a bit and Connor arches his back), and his inner thighs. 

Cutter briefly takes Connor into his mouth, and Connor feels completely overwhelmed, as if he might burst from pleasure. Then Cutter kisses his way back up to Connor’s lips. 

“More,” gasps Connor, quietly.

Cutter smiles, licks his index finger and gently pushes it into Connor’s arse. Connor moans. It hurts but he doesn’t want it to stop. Part of his brain was thinking that he had been worrying about this very situation all afternoon, while another part was wondering what there had been to worry about. As Cutter’s finger ghosts over his prostate, he stops thinking altogether. 

A moment later, Cutter adds a second finger, while simultaneously unwrapping a johnny and single-handedly slipping it on. He removes his fingers and slowly, very slowly, begins to enter Connor.

Connor gives a frustrated grunt and wraps his legs around Cutter and squeezes, abruptly pulling Nick all the way into him. 

“Oh, Connor,” Nick moans against his neck, biting down as the sensation overwhelms him.

They cling to each other for a moment, and then begin to establish a rhythm that is both slow and strong. Cutter’s teeth leave bruises along Connor’s throat, and Connor digs his fingernails into Nick’s back.

Nick’s breathing becomes more ragged. He reaches a hand around Connor’s cock and begins to stroke. The sensation is too much and Connor comes almost immediately. 

Nick slides his hand onto Connor’s chest for support as he shudders and gives into his own orgasm.

After a moment, Nick pulls out and tries to collapse to one side to avoid the mess, but Connor’s legs are still wrapped around him and they end up tangled on their sides, facing each other. Connor looks into Nick’s eyes, smiles, and says, “Cliché, I know, but that was amazing.”

Cutter smiles and plants a gentle kiss on his lips. The two snuggle into each other’s arms, knowing they’ll need a shower soon, but neither ready to pull away just yet.


End file.
